if our bodies are temples, mine is of destruction and ruin
by Reine Des Livres
Summary: Jason didn't understand that touches could be gentle. Until Percy came along.


Life as a demigod isn't easy.

Jason knows that.

In fact, he was raised with that in mind. He literally grew up with wolves. So yeah, everything he did was rough-edged. Gentle wasn't in his vocabulary. Sure, he had friends with whom he could forget about training for a while and just enjoy their company, but even their forms of affection were through bumping shoulders or smacking each others' backs.

That's just how it was. And he was okay with it. He was used to that, after all. He didn't know of any other way to express himself anyway.

Until Percy came along.

* * *

The first time he saw Percy, he felt an instant sense of kinship.

The son of Poseidon must understand what it was like to always have to put on a face of strength. To never be able to hint at weakness. This, of course, included first impressions. He was always taught to exert dominance at the very beginning.

So when Percy offered his hand to shake, Jason, upon wrapping his hand around Percy's, immediately tightened his grip to prove his strength.

To his surprise, the green-eyed demigod merely smiled and maintained his light grip.

Jason was unsettled. Wasn't Percy afraid of being weak? But he kept his thoughts quiet, softening his hand just enough so the handshake returned to a more normal one.

Part of him remained distracted by the feeling of Percy's calloused hand.

* * *

Jason wasn't sure when he started associating Percy with gentleness. He does realize that Percy is one of the most powerful demigods of their generation, but whenever he lets his guard down, which was often around the Seven, he seemed so safe. The opposite of dangerous.

He simply exuded tranquility.

The son of Zeus would occasionally walk into a room only to see Percy lounged across a chair, long limbs stretched out and rested on the arms of the chair.

He remembered the Senate meetings where not a single person sat without perfect posture. No one took you seriously if you didn't sit with your back straight, shoulders back, and chin up. Yet here, whenever Percy spoke, the others hung onto his every word. While he wasn't the most serious person, or more strategically inclined, Jason couldn't deny his brilliance in battle.

Jason would immediately straighten if anyone caught him, but occasionally, he found himself relaxing his back muscles, slouching ever so slightly.

* * *

Percy loved hugs.

Jason noticed as much. Every time something remotely positive happened, he was immediately wrapping his arms around the closest person to him, grinning excitedly like a little child. He would've assumed it was a Greek thing, quite fitting with the frivolity he would expect from the _graecus_ , but none of the others really participated in this hugging. Granted, if one of them was hugged by Percy, they would return it with equal fervor—he had that effect on people—but no one else really initiated them.

So clearly it was just a Percy thing. He wondered how he was raised. Certainly, their childhoods were vastly different. But for some reason, Jason felt that even if Percy was raised like he was, he would still find some way to maintain the softness he has now.

When Leo announced that the Argo II was back in business after their recent encounter with some angry storm spirits, Jason happened to be standing next to Percy. Before he knew it, he was surrounded was warmth. He froze, not daring to move. His own arms were trapped by his sides, but he was quite sure even if his arms were free, he wouldn't make any movement to budge.

Percy smelled like the sea, filling the space around them with salty air. Percy tucked his face into the crook of Jason's neck, his breath warm against Jason's skin. Jason himself didn't dare breathe. Percy's cheek was unbelievably soft. He didn't think there would be anything softer.

It probably only lasted for a couple seconds, but to Jason, it was an eternity. It was such a foreign feeling: to feel safe enough to melt into Percy's arms.

When Percy pulled away, he was grinning, and it was the most beautiful thing Jason had ever seen. His smile was a little crooked, his teeth a pearly white, freckles dotting across his nose, and his sea-green eyes sparkling with mirth. Jason's mouth went dry.

Jason didn't understand what was going on.

* * *

After a little skirmish with a couple of monsters, Jason was in the infirmary, bandaging his shoulder that had taken a long slash from a claw. As taught by the Roman medics, Jason wrapped the bandage tight around the wound, not caring how much strength he was using to pull. Wincing, he let out a breath, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, but he was interrupted by a grunt of disapproval.

"Jason, what in Hades is that?"

He lifted an eyebrow in confusion.

"Your bandaging. It looks horrible. Was it done by Cerberus?"

Looking affronted, he frowned. "I did it. What's wrong with it?"

Percy exclaimed, "What's wrong with it? Your arm is going to lose all circulation if you keep it like that. Here."

Before Jason could protest, Percy was already unwrapping the bandage. He kept a hand on one end and pressed it gently against Jason's shoulder.

The blonde stared.

Percy continued covering Jason's wound carefully, painstakingly placing each layer over the previous. Jason had to admit, it was probably impressively neat, but all he couldn't tear his eyes away from the tip of Percy's tongue that was sticking out between his lips as he concentrated. His heart started beating faster.

He was so mesmerized that he didn't even notice when Percy had finished.

"There, that looks much better."

Jason didn't respond.

The son of Poseidon cocked his head to the side. Jason could've sworn Percy's eyes were brighter than normal. "What? Don't tell me you want me to kiss it better."

"I—" His face was burning.

The corner of Percy's mouth lifted, and the next thing Jason knew, Percy's lips were pressed against his shoulder.

Jason cursed himself for wondering what his lips would feel like against his skin without any material between.

* * *

They had been sparring for a while now.

Jason loved the rhythm of sword fighting. Step, block, jab, parry, spin, stab. He entered a sort of a trance whenever he fought as if his body was in complete control over his mind. Sweat poured down his body, soaked up by the cotton fabric of his t-shirt.

His hair was damp, his breathing uneven, his arms trembling slightly.

"Still got a bit in you?" Percy teased, panting himself.

Jason dodged a slash by Riptide before bringing his own sword up. Clang. Metal rang against metal.

"Please, I could go all day," he shot back.

"Don't be so sure of yourself," Percy smirked as he twisted his body to release his sword from blocking Jason's without getting scratched. His shirt rose up an inch, and Jason's eyes were drawn to the exposed skin.

Quick as a flash, the son of Poseidon slid his sword between Jason's arms and jerked his wrist, flinging Jason's sword into the distance.

Jason grunted in annoyance, "You caught me off-guard."

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."

The two demigods were breathing heavily, exhausted. Percy threw down Riptide and walked over to get some water whilst taking his shirt off.

The blonde froze, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't like he'd never seen other people shirtless. But Percy's back was decorated with more scars than he'd ever seen on another demigod.

Other than himself.

His eyes met Percy's, cheeks tinged pink.

"Jason? Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, it's just—"

Percy pursed his lips. "My scars?"

Jason nodded silently. He hesitated for a second, but seeing Percy's expression hardening, he took his own shirt off as an explanation. Wordlessly, Percy walked over. He placed his hand lightly on Jason's torso, where an angry scar ran across the length of his side, looking up questioningly.

"Battle against Krios."

He traced another scar that ran down his ribs with a finger. His touch sent jolts through his body. Jason felt a little breathless. He had never been touched like this before. The medics, when healing him, were quite rough, especially considering the short time they had per patient. But Percy was touching him like they had all the time in the world.

"And this one?" Percy's voice was unbelievably quiet.

Jason felt the need to whisper too. "Stab wound from one of the turned demigods."

They were standing so close Jason could feel the heat radiating from Percy's body. He could see the beads of sweat rolling down his chin.

As Percy slowly moved his hand up to his shoulder, Jason tensed, feeling a little scared by how intimate Percy was being, but at the same time, he wanted this moment to last forever.

Noting his tension, Percy paused. "Do you want me to stop?"

His voice was rough. "No. I—" He didn't really know how to finish his request, but Percy seemed to understand.

Somehow, Percy managed to step even closer. Jason was pretty sure those green eyes were staring at his lips. His heart skipped a beat.

And then Percy's finger was touching the scar on his lip. He was smiling faintly. "I know this one."

Jason reached his own hand up to cover Percy's. They stood like that, feeling as if there was no one else in the world.

"Percy! The toilets are flooding again!" Annabeth's voice echoed.

They jumped apart.

He could still feel where Percy had touched him.

* * *

Jason was wrong.

He once thought there would be nothing softer than Percy's cheek.

That lasted until one night, shortly before they would return to Camp Half-Blood for the final battle. The two demigods of the Big Three were lying under the stars on the deck of the Argo II, close but not quite touching.

Percy pointed at the Huntress. "You know, I think Zoe would have liked to meet you. Just to prove that not all sons of Zeus are like Hercules."

Jason let out a soft sigh. "I hate that I'm ever compared to that sorry excuse of a god."

Percy just hummed in agreement.

It was silent. Not an awkward silence, a comfortable one.

Jason turned his head to look at the demigod lying next to him. Percy's eyes were closed, his long eyelashes barely dusting his cheeks. He looked so at peace. Jason's chest hurt a little looking at him. His eyes drifted downwards along Percy's arm to his hands.

Percy's left hand was barely an inch away from his right. If he just shifted his hand, they would be touching.

And then, suddenly, they were.

Jason wasn't sure if he had been the one to move. His eyes trailed back along the length of Percy's arm to his face, only to find that he was already looking at him. Percy's eyes were big, ridiculously big. He almost looked like a baby seal.

He would be surprised if Percy couldn't hear his heart beating. His breathing became shallow.

Percy lifted himself off of the floor so he was resting on his left forearm, looking down at Jason.

His voice was low. "I'm not really one for words."

Jason swallowed. "Neither am I."

Percy leaned down, his right hand as support on the ground on the other side of Jason's head. He thinks his heart is about to burst through his chest. His blood was on fire in anticipation.

When Percy finally closed the last few inches between them, all Jason could think was that he would choose this over arm wrestling any day.

* * *

 **AN: Let me know what you thought:)**


End file.
